


Okay, What Happened?

by orphan_account



Series: Back to the Future, or Some Other Copyrighted Movie Quote [1]
Category: Eddsworld
Genre: And angsty, Blood, Body Horror, Eddsworld - Freeform, Gore, I accidentally orphaned it and then couldn't find it, LOTS of violence, M/M, More tags to be added, Remake, Swearing, This is really edgy, This was a previously orphaned Work, lots of swearing, my first multi chapter series, so im starting over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8634061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After the 'End', as the three call it, Tom, Edd and Matt are stuck. They don't know what do do anymore.If you ask Edd, he'd say everything is alright, now. He knows it's not. He blames himself for getting everyone hurt, for letting the devil in their home.Ask Tom and he'll say, 'I knew we could never trust Tord. He was a stupid Commie Bastard. If he's dead, he deserves it.' He does. But Tom just didn't want to be the one who had to kill him. So he drinks. Drinks and eats to forget.Matt would say something along the lines of, 'He ruined my face! I mean, seriously! He deserves it. What Tom said!' And he isn't wrong either. At least, according to himself. Matts face was everything, but Tord ruined it. He ruined everything.Tord would just say, 'I severed my ties. I don't need them, they don't need me. So I hurt them to get them away from me.' And that's what he did. But he's lying when he says he doesn't need them. He needs them so much.And Edds world is about to change.---(See what I did there? Eddsworld? Edds World? Heha- oh never mind.)





	1. Epilogue: The Hospital

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Explicit for graphic violence, blood, swearing, gore, alcohol references, accidental innuendos and euphemisms, sexual content, embarrassing things, nightmare fuel, suicide attempts, triggering content, suicidal thoughts, general sad and EDD-gy stuff, and sinning.  
> \---  
> (See what's I did there? Edd-gy? OH NEVER MIND NO ONE LIKES MY PUNS.)  
> Excuse my spelling errors, I'm doing this on my phone, and I had to turn of Auto-Correct because it kept changing the word 'and' to something like 'Anbarski' or something like that XD So forgive me.

Prologue to the Epilogue:

Tom saw the missile coming towards him. He didn't move. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He was, for once, absolutely terrified for his life. He wasn't going to live. He was going to die. At least he got his will written a while back, so. 

There was a huge explosion. 

Everything went black. 

Tom couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. His head was pounding. His body was burning. Dust was everywhere. It went in through his nose and laced the insides of his lungs. His mouth was dry and tasted like metal. His ears were ringing.

Everything was still black. 

He couldn't scream. He wanted to. But he couldn't. 

'So this is what it's like to die in an explosion,' he thought. He noticed his reaction was much less 'explosive', than he thought it would he. 

He would have chuckled at the poor excuse for a joke, but his lungs were dusty, his mouth was dry, and his throat burned. So instead, he just coughed. 

He coughed, trying to expel the dust from his lungs and throat, but his throat burned, and when he coughed, he tasted more metal in his mouth. So he gave up. 

'I'm in so much pain, I must be alive,' he thought. He tried to groan, but his vocal chords seemed to be broken, because all that came out was a raspy breath. It hurt his ribs to breathe too deeply. 

His left arm stung, and burned, and it felt wet. He must be bleeding, or something. He thought that it wasn't actually that bad. 

He was sorely mistaken.

He was in so much pain. Too much pain. His ears still rung. He tried to move his arm, but when he did, it only hurt even more. He figured it was only human nature to to avoid pain. He sighed.

He tried to use his other arm to push the big board-like thing off of him. To show the others he was okay. To show them he was alive. He thought he was going to die already, he didn't want to think that again. 

The burning temperature only increased. 

It was hot. Too hot. He needed to get out. He was burning. He was going to burn alive. He was going to die. In a fire. His body's would burn to ashes, and they would never find it. He would forever remain missing. No one would know what happened to poor Thomas Ridge. 

No one would ever know, and soon he would be forgotten, and Edd and Matt would forget him and move on-

"So long, Old Friends!" 

And Tord will hurt them again. Probably even worse next time. 

Tom found strength in his body he didn't know was still there. He pushed through the rubble and debris, and screamed. 

"I. AM NOT. YOUR. FRIEND!" He held his harpoon gun in his hands, but he didn't know where it came from. It was burning his hands. 

He pulled the trigger. 

He didn't know if he hit his target until he heard an explosion. His vision was blurry with tears and dust. It was unfocused and doubled, probably due to a head injury. His ribs were probably broken, along with something in his foot, because he couldn't stand on that thing quite right. 

He was pretty sure there was some severed muscle in his arm, and he was surprised that he was even able to move it at all. 

But when he heard that explosion, he was satisfied. He hoped Tord was dead. Or at the very least, was suffering greatly. 

He grinned when Matt and Edd ran over the debris to get to Tom, both looking frantic, and tripping more often than not. Edd sobbed into Tom's arms, and moved  away quickly when Tom flinched and groaned in pain. 

"S-sorry Tom," Tom smiled apologetically. "It's alright, Edd, I'm fine!" He chuckled dryly, flinching again when his ribs reminded him that they needed to be fixed.

He grabbed his chest, and collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain. Edd didn't hesitate to pick him up, and sling his and around his and Matt's shoulders.

Tom smiled, despite the situation. "See? I told you the harpoon gun would be useful!" He chuckled. Edd and Matt joined in as well. 

Soon they were just laughing and from laughing, because they see full of adrenaline, and the situation is bad. Actually, much worse than they thought, but all that could do about it was laugh because they went through that horrible situation together, and they came out alive. 

So together, the three friends laughed together, despite broken ribs, and shortness of breaths. They laughed despite ruined faces, and broken arms, and bloody teeth. 

Together, they laughed because Murphy's Law applied to them every day of their lives. They laughed because everything bad that could've possibly happened today just happened, and they were okay. 

They laughed. 

Somone called the paramedics, and they arrived half an hour after the explosion. They areived along with the fire department, and the police. 

The three couldnt possibly make up and excuse for this situation, so they just spilled everything they knew, laughing and crying the whole time out of adrenaline and pain, physical and emotional, and they were okay. 

The ambulance took Eduardo and Mark before they got Tom, Matt and Edd in there. Jon went in a body bag, and Eduardo refused to go anywhere without Mark by his side. Edd guessed that those two were platonic soulmates of sorts. He smiled. 

When Eduardo gave his statement to the police, he cried, and hugged Mark, who comforted him gently, as a mother would a small, scared child. Though, if you asked, Eduardo would deny it fully.

The paramedics said that Tom had a broken skull. It was completely shattered. Tom was rather calm in hearing the news, while Edd, being the mother hen of the group, freaked out, screaming, and trying to make sure that Tom was going to be okay. Matt was confused, and incredibly worried. 

There was swelling just behind Tom's rught ear, and the paramedics said it was both a subdural and epidural hematoma, meaning that his brain was bleeding severely. I he didn't have immediate surgery, then he would most certainly die, the doctor explained.

That didn't help Edd at all. 

Soon, Tom passed out, and when he woke up, he started vomiting, and then passed out again. 

The paramedics tossed Tom into an ambulance, and drove as fast as they could to the hospital, and prepped him for surgery. Edd was terrified about what would happen to him. Matt cried, and Edd full on sobbed big, fat tears, tightly clinging to Matt's shirt as they both cried and cried until there was nothing left to cry, and then they were put into ambulances, and driven to the hospital. 

\---

Tom woke up to a bright light. His mother stared him in the face, smiling gently. "Tom, good, you're awake!" She whispered. She was on his right, while there was a doctor on his left. 

Tom tried to speak, but found there was a tube in his throat. He tried to move his arms, but he found they were tied to the bed with restraints. There were beeping monitors beside him, and more tubes in his arms, and more beeping. 

Tom panicked. 

"Hey, hey!" The doctor said. "Calm down! You're in the hospital! You just came out of surgery!" Tom couldn't breathe. Literally. His nose was too stuffed up, and his breathing tube stopped putting air into his lungs. 

He tried to speak, but the doctor stopped him. "Don't try to talk, just mouth the words, okay?" Tom mouthed, 'I can't breathe' frantically, and a nurse next to him calmly fixed the problem. 

Suddenly, he could breathe again. 

He was relived. 

The doctors removed the restraints on his arms and legs soon afterwards, and turned the lights on. He didnt even know they were off. 

He was later removed to another room, in the ICU, where he spent the next five, most agonizing, and emotional days of his life. 

Tom got the tube removed from his throat the same day he woke up. But he found it very hard to speak to his mother. The first words he said when he got the tube removed was a raspy, "Where are Matt and Edd? Are they okay?" His mother smiled. "I'd say I'm doing much better than you are!" Edd walked into the room with Matt by his side, both of them carrying IV things with wheels on them. 

Tom smiled, though it was hard, due to his chapped lips. A nurse soon came in, and brought him some food from the cafeteria. Matt and Edd and Tom's mother all sat with him, and didn't say anything. They all just enjoyed eachother's company in silence. 

For some reason, Tom found it hard to eat. He could barely open his mouth enough to get the food in. He was so hungry, and it would really suck if he couldn't eat. 

The next thing he noticed, was that his right eye was swollen shut. He just couldn't open it. It was beginning to jusf water up, and get incredibly gross and crusty. He felt a little bit disgusting , at the moment, and desperately wanted a shower. 

Edd seemed to notice that Tom found it difficult to eat, and excused himself, grinning slightly. "Where are you going?" Tom asked. "I'll be right back, I promise." He smiled. Tom figured he was using the bathroom, but there was a special glint in his eye that told him otherwise. 

Tom continued attempting to eat for the next ten minutes, while the three made small talk. Tom still found it difficult to shovel the macaroni into his mouth the way he wanted when his mouth wouldn't open. 

Edd came back with a mysterious drink in his hands. 

Tom eyed him curiously, silently questioning the drink. Edd handed him the drink, and told him, "Drink up!" Whilst grinning. 

Tom took a sip from the straw, and found it was a smoothie. He didn't know the flavor, but it was certainly good. The tast was familiar. He smiled. 

"Thanks, Edd!" He found it much easier to drink from a straw than to try to put a fork in his mouth. He sucked happily on the straw to bring more of the flavor up an into his mouth. Tom set the tray of food to his side, and drank what Edd had brought him. 

Edd chuckled. "You're welcome, Tom!" Edd sat back down on the bed next to Matt and Tom's mother. Tom's mother didn't say much. She was mainly shocked that this had happened, and was just trying to make sure her son was okay. She wouldn't forgive herself if he had died, even if it wasn't her fault. 

Edd sensed this, and patted Tom's mother on the shoulder, comfortingly. She looked up at Edd with worry in her eyes. Edd stared back with a worried smile. 

Tom tried to sit up properly, but it was difficult, due to the stitches in his chest. Edd had to help him up. Tom watched as Matt looked at Edd, watching him help Tom up with some emotion Tom's never seen in Matt's eyes before. He couldn't put a name to it, but it was a very positive emotion. Tom was glad Matt was happy. 

Tom finished the drink quickly, giving himself a brainfreeze, twice, and soon enough, visiting hours were over. Tom's mother left, and Edd and Matt went back to their respective rooms to sleep.

Tom turned on his TV, and he watched whatever cartoons were on, but he wasn't listening to them. Tom smiled gently. He closed his lack of an eye, and tried to sleep, pressing the button on his bed that would push the top backwards, so he could lay down.

He knew things were going to change, but he knew he would be alright. 

He opened his eye again, and felt the side of his head that was preformed on. He felt a tube coming out of his head. Half of his head was actually shaved. He smiled. Probably by his mother's request. Hairstylists, am I right? He felt along the stitches in his head, tracing the scar. It was big. It was large and shaped like a question mark, going all the way behind his ear, then coming slightly in front of it. 

He closed his eye again, and fell asleep to the thoughts of change. 


	2. Hospital Days, and I'm Not Okays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom is still in the hospital, and is very bored. To accomodate his boredom, he and his mum play matchmakers. Fluff ensues.  
> Tom is still bored the day after, and no one visits him for a while due to work, and check-ups. Angst ensues.  
> Fluffly angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The parents in this series will probably be a little /too/ accepting with gay-ness and junk. I grew up in a non-accepting and simultaniously accepting environment due to my mum and the jerk I called dad for over five(?) years. So... I could use the pretend acceptanc 8^8

Hospital Days

Tom awoke the next day, feeling unrested, and somewhat tired. Not unusual, really. The hospital beds really suck. 

Tom attempted to open his mouth again, practicing getting used to the inability to open it fully. He wonders if he'll ever open it correctly again. 

Tom tried to open his other eye, but it was still severely swollen. It was even more crusty and disgusting than yesterday. He groaned, wiping the gross-ness off of his eye, and onto the blankets instead. 

A nurse brought him some breakfast, bacon, eggs, milk, and toast. The food looked nice, but it was hospital food. It didn't taste very good. He brushed it off as just some minimum-wage cafeteria workers being tired. He was tired, so he didn't blame them. 

Later, Tom learned that he now had six titanium plates sitting in the right side of his head, kept there by twelve titanium screws. They would not be removed, and the bone will just grow over the plates, keeping them in place. 

He had actually shattered his skull, and a piece of the bone had cut a piece of the dura, a very important artery that wraps around the brain. "Sharp bones," Tom replied to the doctor as he scarfed down another smoothie that Edd had brought him. 

"How are you so calm!?" Edd nearly screamed. "You almost died!" Edd was actually nearly in tears. "I don't know. Maybe I'm still just processing it. It might take a while." Edd smiled sadly, and nodded. "I'll give you that, buddy." 

"You shattered your skull from the temporal bone," the doctor put his index finger on Tom's temple, and moved it to the back of his head. "To the occipital bone, way back here." Tom's lack of eyes widened. "Huh." He said, rather calmly. Edd was having an internal war with himself. How was Tom just being so calm like this!? Tom could see the internal struggle Edd was having, and smiled at him. Edd was immediately calmed by it. He smiled back. 

Matt, however, was rather shy, and avoided the gazes of almost everyone, hardly making eye contact with anyone outside of Edd. After all, Tom had no eyes to make eye contact with. 

Matt chuckled lightly at his own joke as the doctor left. "What's so funny, Matt?" Edd asked. "I was just thinking about how Tom has no eyes to make eye-contact with." He replied. Edd chuckled, and Tom made a movement in his face that would've been rolling his eyes, if he had any. 

Tom finished his smoothie, and tossed it away into the trash bin next to his bed, just as his mother walked into the room. "Mum?" Tom asked. "Don't you have work today?" She nodded. "Yes, but my son is in the hospital, I figured a visit every day, even for an hour, won't hurt. My boss if fine with it, I'm sure," she smiled brightly with that face only a mother could have. 

Tom was oddly comforted by the gesture, and smiled back. 

Throughout the day, Tom noticed something strange. Matt was looking at Edd, and often times smiled a little bit everytime Edd helped Tom up. 

Tom's mum noticed his noticing, and looked to see what was being noticed. She smiled when she saw it. 

When Edd and Matt were getting food from the cafeteria for lunch, Tom wasn't allowed to leave the ICU just yet, and Tom's mother asked him a strange question. 

"Are those two boys together?" Tom looked at her strangely. "What?" He asked. "Together? As in dating? Are they lovers in the nighttime-" Tom turned red. "U-uhm mum! That's enough!" He looked away. "As far as I know, no, no they aren't." "Well, as far as I know, Matt has fallen in love with Edd." Tom blushed even brighter. "M-mum! Oh my gosh!" He looked at her, quite surprised. "How would you even know?" He asked, suddenly curious. "Mother's intuition." She replied simply. Tom was confused. "Oh...kay?" 

"So," she continued. "What're we going to do to get them together?" Tom's 'eyes' widened. "Whoa! How do we know that Edd even likes Matt back!?" The older woman only replied with a smile. "I just know things." She said. "How...?" Tom asked. "Mother's intuition." She replied. Tom nodded. "Right." 

"But seriously," she said. "Those boys are soul mates." Her eyes glinted with a mysteriousness Tom almost found unsettling, while it was also comforting. Tom was confused. "How do you know?" He asked, but suddenly remembered. "Mother's intuition." The two said simultaneously. 

Edd and Matt came back from the cafeteria, and ate their food with Tom and his mother. And then Tom's estranged mum asked a question. 

"So," she started. "What are you boys sexualities?" Matt was confused as to why she asked, but Edd nearly choked on his chicken noodle soup. "I-I'm sorry, what?" He asked. "What are your sexualities?" She replied. Matt replied quickly. 

"I'm a polysexual." He relplied proudly. Edd was more nervous. "I'm a demisexual." He replied. "I like people close to me," He looked down at his soup, fidgeting with his fingers, and his face turned pink as me smiled. 

Tom grinned devilishly. 

"What'cha thinkin' 'bout, Edd?" He said, trying to eat the macaroni the nurse, Alex, had brought him. Edd turned even more red. So much so, that he could make a tomato jealous. "U-um! N-no one?" He tried. Tom looked at him with his I'm-not-taking-no-for-an-answer face. 

"Hehehe..." Edd tried to laugh it off. It didn't work. "My crush." He said quickly, turning even more red, if possible. "Who is it!?" Matt asked excitedly. Edd's blush only spread to his ears and neck, and he stuttered. "N-n-n-no one! In p-particular, at least!" He smiled nervously. "Well, then it can't hurt to tell us, can it?" Tom's mum cut in. Edd looked away. 

"I'm shy about it!" He cringed. "What do they look like?" Matt asked, curious. "Well..." Edd began. "He's r-really handsome, for sure!" He smiled, day-dreaming about this mystery man. "Even more handsome than me?" Matt asked frantically. Edd shook his head. "He's incredibly handsome, and he knows it! Just as handsome as you!" He rushed out the sentence, turning redder at every word. 

Well, if that wasn't proof enough.

"Oh, c'mon!" Tom's mother said. Everyone turned to look at her. "Just kiss already!" She was yelling, now, and people in the hallway peeked in the room, curious as to what was happening. "W-what?" Edd asked. 

"Kiss him, Edd!" Edd blushed. W-what? W-who?" Tom's mother was getting impatient. "The man next to you, you idiot!" Edd blushed. "W-wha...?" He was cut off by Matt connecting their lips. Edd's eyes widened, and he blushed when Matt pulled away. "M-Matt!" He touched his lips. Then smiled. "C'mere, you!" He kissed the redhead again. 

Tom and his mother cheered together, as well as many on-lookers of the situation, who had gathered at fhe entrance of the room. "Yay!" The oldest of the three then checked her watch, and noticed the time. "Oh! I have to go!" She left the room quickly, kissing Tom on the forehead before running out the door, giggling, her long hair chasing after her. 

Lunch was eaten, strange conversations were had, and music was played, and soon enough, visiting hours were over, and the two men had to leave for their own rooms. 

Edd's mum and dad, as well as Matt's parents visited for a short time to make sure their children were okay. After making sure, they made small talk, and left. Everyone left, and Tom was alone again. 

He smiled at the day he had today. He again attempted to open his mouth, but it was rather painful. He tried to open his eye, too. It was hard, but at least the swelling went down significantly. 

He let out a long sigh, and turned on the television, playing some childrens' cartoon about magic people with magic gems glued to their bodies wherever, and fell asleep. 

\--

Tom awoke the next day, feeling unrested. 

He really needed a drink. 

Edd and Matt had told him yesterday that they were both going to get check-ups from the doctors, so they couldn't visit him today. 

Tom was alone, as his mother was going to go to work today. Tom smiled. He always thought she worked a little too hard. She must be so worried about him. And he brushed off everything like it was nothing, he doesn't take it seriously. He suddenly doubts he ever will. 

He was never really sure he'd take it seriously, like, ever, not even in a million years. At least, not until a few years later. But that's another story. 

He was alone today. 

He grew very bored, very quickly. 

He turned on the TV, watching a show he'd never seen before, called Bones, about a forensic anthropoligist named Dr. Brennan, and her boyfriend, Agent Booth, called her Bones. They solved murder mysteries together.

He grew very invested in the show, and planned to watch more in Netflix when he got home. When the show ended, commercials followed, and again, Tom got very bored, very quickly. He thought about the episode. 

He never thought that the Santa Claus charity guy would've been killed by another Santa Claus charity guy. "That kinda bites, huh?" He asked aloud, to no one in particular. 

When he thought about the murder, his thoughts went to more similar things. "I wonder what it would be like to die." He said aloud. He thought about it for a while. "Hmm," 

He thought about it for a long time. Then he thought about  _that day._

_Ashes. Smoke. Rubble._

_Fire. Blood. People._

_Vomiting. Cutting. Metal._

_Sharp. Pain. Death._

_Tears. Emotions. More pain._

_Physical. Emotional._

_Black._

_White._

_Love._

_Hate._

_Everything at once in a single action._

He shook his head. 

Tord was dead, now. He didn't have to think about him. 

 _Tord_ was  _dead._

Tom was no better than him, as Tom was the one who killed him. He was a murderer. He doesn't deserve to live. He deserves to die. To die horribly, in a fire, or an explosion, just like Tord did. Tord was mean, he was horrible, actually, and probably  _ ~~~~deserved_ what he had gotten, but Tom didn't want to be the one who delivered the final blow, he didn't want to have the last laugh. 

But Tord did this to him! Tom was in the hospital better yet, the IC-mother-fucking-U! He had a brain injury! Tom's life was going to drastically change! He could probably be an almost completely different person, or something! He messed up Tom's life. He deserved it. 

But I didn't want to do it. I didn't mean to do it. 

But Tord is dead now. 

And it's Tom's fault. 

He killed someone. He doesn't deserve to live. He deserved to die like Tord did. He deserved to be murdered, to be tortured. If the 'Red Army', or whatever Tord called it, cane after him, Tom would take what ever was coming to him, because he deserved it. 

He wouldn't complain, just do what they say, and get all of the pain, swallow it up as it is, tasting the bitter flavor of blood and defeat, and self-loathing, and he wouldn't complain. He would just die. He would die the way he deserved. 

Tom suddenly, he wanted to feel pain. He suddenly wanted to hurt himself. He suddenly wanted someone to punch him in the face, and the gut, and just to keep punching him until he stopped breathing. He wanted to kill himself for doing that to someone he knew for so long. Someone, a long time ago, could've considered a real friend. 

He shook. He didn't even knownhe was crying. 'Good thing the curtains are drawn' he thought as he observed the windows, allowing people to look inside his hospital room. 

He continued to silently sob, breathing heavily and uneven. He smiled, even when tears were falling down his cheeks. 

He gave a dry laugh, and pulled his knees to his chest. "He never called. Not once, never." He stated. No one was listening. "He never gave us an explination. He just left, and then came back." He smiled wider, but the smile quickly faltered, and he began to sob louder. 

"I don't deserve this," he muttered. "I deserve pain, I deserve hate." He covered his eyes with his hands. 

He looked around for something to cause him pain, but when he sat up, he felt the stitches in his chest. He got an idea. 

He opened his hospital gown, and poked at the dissolvable stitches in his chest. Tears leaked out if hus tear ducts, and onto his chest. He pulled at the stitches, the pulling tearing at his skin. It hurt. He was bleeding. A lot. 

'Good,'  he winced at the pain. 'You deserve this.' He glared at his chest. He pulled the stitches harder. It seemed like he couldn't get them out fast enough. 

'Edd and Matt are happy. They don't need you. They're just fine without you,' he thought. 'They don't need a stupid alcoholic running around, causing them trouble.' He glared harder. 

He ripped the stitches out, blood flowing from the new wound. He was tearing himself apart. He screamed. There was blood all over his bed, now. Blood on his hands, his face, his stomach, his sheets. 

If he hadn't screamed, he would've died. 

Two nurses ran into his room when they heard him scream, and nearly fainted at the sight. The took his hands from his chest, and one of them screamed, "I need some help in here!" 

Tom couldn't struggle very much, and his chest was now open, and he was loosing blood fast. 

\---

"He's going to need at least another five days of being in the hospital, before we can send him home. And when we do, he's going to need to be on suicide watch. He might need a psychiatric hospi-" Doctor Buffer was cut off by Edd, surprisingly. Tom's mother was silent the entire time. 

"Tom will not, I repeat  _not_ go to a loony bin!" He was filled with anger. Pure anger. Towards himself for not noticing anything. Towards the doctor for suggesting Tom is mental, and especially at Tom himself, for saving the world, having his own ass saved, and then proceeding to throw his life away, when he m hasn't even been discharged from the hospital yet! 

Edd's eyes were filled with tears. He clenched his fists at his sides, and then unclenched. He repeated this process many times. "Tom is not alright I see that, but what makes you think that I, his best friend, cannot take care of him!?" He was sobbing. He fell to his knees, holding his broken wrist to his chest. 

"This is all my fault," he muttered between sobs. "I let the devil into our home, now we have nothing, and Tom is suicidal!" He leaned foreward, towards the floor. 

Matt instantly sat on his knees next to Edd, trying go comfort him. "It's alright, Edd, you didn't know-" "So you're just going to give me some bullshit about how everything is okay?!" He stood up, glaring at Matt. "Our best friend is in the fucking hospital, hell we are too!" Edd's knees and hands shook. "Tom just tried to kill himself, and you're just going to say 'oh it's oh-fucking-kay!?" 

Matt was hurt. He stood up calmly a comforting smile on his face. He lay a hand on Edd's shoulder, and Edd sobbed even harder at the gentle touch, as if the simple contact hurt. He buried head in Matt's chest, and clutched his hospital gown tightly, and sobbed. 

"I was trying to say, that it wasn't your fault. No one knew why that guy came back, and hell I barely remembered him at all."

What I am trying to say is, it's not okay. And that okay is a relative term. A relative term that is going to change for us. Okay is going to be a different thing for us, now that Tom has this injury, now that our house has exploded! Now that we all live in seperate houses, now that everythin has changed. It's not okay, now, and I don't even know what okay is, anymore, but it's alright. Everything will be alright in the end. We'll be alright." 

Matt smiled, his eyes closing as he sang a familiar song to Edd to calm him down. 

_'Well I woke up to the sound of silence, cars cutting like knives in a fist fight.'_

_'I found you with a bottle of wine, your head in the curtains, your heart like the Fourth of July.'_

_'You swore and said we are not, we are not shining stars, this I know, I never said we are.'_

_'Though I've never been through hell like that, and I've closed enough windows to know you can never look back.'_

Edd smiled, and joined in. 

_'If you're lost and alone, or you're sinking like a stone, carry on. May your past be the sounf of your feet upon the ground, carry on, carry on."_

They weren't 'okay', whatever that means, now, but they would be. They would be fine. They always were, and they always will be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, btw updates might be slow, and please forgive me if I have crazy grammatical errors at times, sometimes auto correct is off, sometimes it's on.  
> I'm typing this whole story in my phone, lol.  
> ALSO.  
> Tomorrow l am going to a funeral for some uncle or other I don't remember, so I might not update for the next few days or I might just do things really slowly.


	3. The Beginning of a Year of Blackouts and Hangovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter: Tord 'Red Leader' Larsson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole lot of this chapter is about Tord, and my headcannons for him... Basically it's a giant headcannon dump XD  
> ...  
> But it's also the last chapter for the introduction part of this series, so it's very important.

The Beginning Of A Year Of Blackouts and Hangovers

Tord sat on that hill, watching the events play out, but not processing them. He deadpanned. His face was blank. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. Nothing was right.

There was pain in the entire right side of his body. 

It was burning beyond belief. He needn't even look at it to know just how bad it was. It hurt.  _Bad._ And not just the physical pain. Losing his friends. He had spent so many years with them. 

He went on so many 'Edd-ventures', as Edd would call them, jokingly. But now, he couldn't look back on those old times and laugh. No, he could only be reminded of what he had done. He had hurt them. He didn't know if Tom was alive. He probably was. As far as he knew, not Matt, nor Edd knew how to use a harpoon gun.

He chuckled dryly.

He quickly figured out the body on the ground had belonged to his neighbor, and not the man he wished he could call his friend.

Paul and Patryk arrived soon after, and gasped at Tord's condition. "S-sir!" Paul yelled. "We need to get you to safety!" He put his hands on Tord's left shoulder, attempting to pull him away from the edge of the cliff. Tord pulled away, and looked over at the area hebhad just left. He looked at Durdan Lane. Paul sensed that his boss needed to be alone while he thought things ever, and left him be. 

Tord sat crosslegged at the edge on the edge of a cliff. He sighed as Paul and Patryk behind him picked up some remains of the robot, examining them. Or, at least, they were pretending to, just to look busy. 

"Sir," Patryk said. "You need medical help." Tord grunted in reply. "I know," Tord didn't want the medical help. He breathed in sharply to cope with the pain.

His right arm was useless. 

He couldn't see out of his right eye. He thought was liquefied in the explosion. 

He told himself it was just his liquefied eye falling out of his eye socket, and not tears. 

Blood dripped down from his arm and his face, and fell to the ground in small, perfect circles. His arm and face were burning due to lack of skin. His left eye burned with tears. His chest burned because he felt like he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe because his lungs weren't working. They weren't working because he didn't deserve for his lungs to work  

He didn't deserve to live.

Tord breathed in sharply, and winced. He groaned, and fell to his left side. He curled into a small ball, and tears leaked down his face. He groaned in pain, but it was more like screaming. 

It finally caught up with him. 

Thus was his karma. His punishment. His concequence. The effect. The result of everything he's done in the last few years. Every horrible thing. 

This was the word of the Gods he didn't belive in. They were telling him that ge was terrible. He didn't deserve to live. He deserved to die. He deserved everything he got from this experience. He deserved to burn in Hell. He deserved it. 

Paul and Patryk ran to theur bosses side, and tried to help him up, but Tord groaned and pushed them away. "No!" He yelled. He curlednup even further, cradling his right arm in his left, what was left of his face twisted in agony. 

Tord just kept muttering to himself, "This is your fault. If you never left, if you never left." Paul looked over at Patryk, worried for their leader. 

Tord breathed and screamed, then he screamed and cried. Soon, screams turned to whimpers, cries reduced to sniffles, and everything faded to black. 

Paul took Tord's unconscious body in his arms, not worried about the blood gathering on his blue uniform. Patryk drove the car, while Paul took care of Tord in the back seat. Paul carefully wrapped his bandages as Patryk drove back to the army base as fast as possible, without hurting anyone else.

\---

Tord woke up in a hospital room. He looked around, noticing that he was at the Red Army Base Hospital, or the RABH, for short.

He noticed that his arms and legs were restrained, and he could no longer see out of his right eye. He looked at his right arm, and saw he didn't have one anymore. All that was left was his shoulder. His eye widened. He gasped. 

He screamed. 

A doctor Tord didn't recognize rushed into the room, along with Paul and Patryk. 

"Red Leader!" Paul screamed. "Sir!" Patryk and Paul rushed to his side faster than the doctor. "S-sir! Calm down!" Patryk reassured. "You're in the RABH! You're at the hospital!" Paul ripped away the restraints, and pulled the screaming man to his chest. Paul rubbed Tord's back as he cried. 

"I don't have an- it's gone- where-?" He began hyperventilating. The monitors he was attatched to began beeping faster and louder, and Tord clung tighter to Patryk. "Patryk..." He whispered. "What have I done...?" Patryk didn't answer, and only patted his messy, greasy hair down.

He repeated that sentence over and over until he could breathe again. He was shaking. He felt like his arm was still there, and tried to use it to cling to Patryk again, but began to sob again as he realized it wasn't there. 

The doctor had long since left, at Paul's orders. No one was allowed to see the Red Leader in such a state. Red Leader wouldn't let them. 

Tord pulled away from Patryk, and touched the stump where his right arm used to reside. He was right-handed. He wrote with that hand. He couldn't write with his left. He winced in pain when he touched the bandages, and glared at his wound. He was crippled. But his glare fell when he realized he deserved this. 

He looked back at the happy memories he used to have with his 'friends'. Those days were gone. He didn't understand anything anymore. He could no longer smile when he thought of those memories. He could inly think of them as dark ones, scary ones. They were now the memories that brought tears to his eyes- sorry, eye- and he would never smile again. 

He felt sick to his stomach. 

"I feel sick to my stomach." He said in a weak voice. His voice trembled and shook. His voice was so weak, it sounded as if you were to touch it, even with the lightest of touches, it would shatter in to millions of tiny pieces. 

"Or," he took a breath, and looked at his lap. "Am I sick in the head?" Not Paul, nor Patryk knew what to do. This man was their boss, maybe even their friend, and they had never seen him so weak. So Paul smiled. 

"You know what?" He asked. Tord lifted his head. "What?" Tord asked in reply. "You're alright, for a sicko." Paul smiled brighter. It brought back a memory. Probably the last good memory Tord even had. 

The day he met Paul  

-

_Tord was terrified._

_His father stood over his mother's dead body, a dreafully evil look carved into his features. His eyes were dull grey, sharp, watching everything in sight. Never missing a beat. Not missing the look on his son's face._

_Tord was scared._

_Tears streamed down his face as he cried, "Mom! No!" He was hyperventilating. He clutched his chest. Be couldn't breathe. His eyes were wide and terrified and scared, and sad. His eyes were so, so sad, and painful._

_Tord was scarred._

_His mother's face was contorted into one, final expression of terror and pain. Her face was the definition of pain._

_Tord's father lunged at him. Tord screamed, wide eyes growing wider. He focused, and panicked at the same time. He grabbed the first weapon he could find, the broken lamp on the floor, over to his left. He grabbed it, and held it up to his face for protection._

_In a moment of pure fear and adrenaline, Tord swung the lamp into his father's head. To this day, he doesn't know if he killed the man, or knocked him out, but it haunts him._

_Tord ran out of the house, covered in blood, to the police station._

_At the police station, there was a young woman with blond hair, sitting at the front desk. She gasped when she saw him._

_His eyes were wide and terrifyed, and he looked around the room frantically. His mother's, father's, and even his own blood covered his black trench coat. He was panting, taking short, shallow breaths, and his eyes never seemed to stay in one place._

_He was only fourteen years old._

_From that moment on, everythung was a blur. People asked him questions, and he barely stuttered the answers out. He was quiet. He was tired. He just wanted to lay down._

_He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wished everything went back to the way it was before, before his mother was murdered, before he himself became a murderer._

_A fee days later, he was taken to a home for foster children. He was tired. He didn't talk. He just nodded, and did as he was told. He no longer had the capacity to argue. No longer even had the will, anymore._

_He stood in the corner of the mess hall, as everyone called it, and just sat down by himself, eating. His eyes were cold, dead. He had no emotion. He had no will to feel emotion._

_From across the room, he saw two boys. One had chin length hair, and wonky bangs, and the other had short hair, and had hard eyes, but they weren't harsh and cold, like his father's. They were eyes made for a real father, made for silliness, and seriousness. For happiness and discipline and strength. The other boy had the eyes of a concerned mother. His eyes were soft, and kind. They were full of emotion and empathy, and understanding._

_The boys were close together. Their hands were interlaced, and they smiled at eachother. Tord was jealous of them. They were happy. Tord didn't know what happy was. He was suicidal. Happy no longer existed._

_Tord went back to staring at his food with an empty gaze. His eyes were glossed over, and he didn't pay attention to the world around him. Frankly, he just didn't care._

_"Hey," said a voice. "I'm Paul." Tord looked up to see the couple he had looked at earleir. "I'm Patryk." Patryk smiled, and held out his hand, while Paul stared at him, observing him. Tord felt uncomfortable under his gaze._

_Tord gingerly took Patryk's hand and shook it. Patryk immediately sat down, taking Paul with him._

_Patryk sat with Tord and asked him a question that Tord had never been asked before in his entire life. "You wanna be friends?"_

_Tord looked at Patryk with wide eyes. He was honestly shocked. "Me?" He asked. Patryk giggled. "Yes, you silly!" Tord looked at Patryk in a strange way, then looked at Paul, as if asking for permission. Paul nodded._

_However, Tord shook his head. "No, I am afraid we cannot be friends." Tord looked away. "Aw, why not?" Patryk asked. Paul was surprised, but was obviously trying to hide it. "Because," Tord replied. "I do not deserve them." Patryk looked at him curiously. "Why don't you deserve them? Everyone deserves friends!" He looked honestly worried for Tord. "Not me. I don't deserve anyone. I am sick in the head. My father is dead, and I killed him!" Paul was surprised, now, and didn't bother hiding it._

_Then Paul did something none of them expected._

_"Well," he said. Patryk and Tord looked at him. "You're alright, for a sicko." He smirked._

_"So far, at least."_

_-_

Tord smiled at the memory. His grey eyes brightening up, but only slightly. "Heh," he laughed a little. "Good one Paul." His chapped lips formed something that could've been called a smile, if it weren't for the amount of pain both men could see in it. They smiled back, anyways, because it was still genuine. 

"Why don't we get you up and iut of here, Red?" Tord nodded. "I have work to do." Paul shook his head. "Oh, no, boss." He stated. "We aren't getting you out hust so you can work yourelf to death. We're getting you out so you can get a damn drink. By the looks of it, you could really use one." Patryk nodded as he removed the restraints in his left arm, and both his feet. 

Tord looked sadly at his missing arm. "I miss my right arm, already, you know?" He said. "It was kind of growing on me." Paul and Patryk looked at Tord strangely, then laughed sadly. "Too soon?" Tord asked. Paul and Patryk nodded. "It'll always be too soon, boss." Patryk sighed as he helped Tord out of the bed. 

\---

Then helped Tord to a bar they had inside the base, because of course they had one in the base. 

As soon as they got there, they were drinking like they were never going to drink again. They had a right to do so, too. Especially after the week they've had. 

They all laughed to the sounds of glasses clinking together, and fell asleep to the sounds of giggles and sniffles back in Tord's office. 

\--

When Tord woke up, the first thing he wanted was a drink. So, he had a drink of Smirnoff with a breakfast omlette. 

He had a glass of red wine with his lunch, a club sandwich.

He had a glass of champagne with his dinner, left-over spaghetti from a few days ago. 

After dinner, Tord had more drinks. Smirnoff to start with, and then he went to Tequila, and found some Jack Daniels, and he eventually passed out on the bathroom floor, vomit at the corners of his mouth. 

He didn't want to think. Alcohol made him stop thinking. So naturally, he drank alcohol because it made him stop thinking. 

Paul suggested they go to a bar a few days of Smirnoff, red wine and champagne. Tord found more Tequila. He got wasted. Again. 

Paul and Patryk brought him home. Again. Tord got even more wasted at home. Again. He passed out in the bathtub. Again. 

He usually went straight for the bathtub because it was comfortable. It was close to the toilet, so he didn't have to go very far when he needed to throw up. Tord was hardly ever sober. 

Tord didn't want to be. 

So he never was. 

He rarely showed his face, anymore. Many of the recruits had spread rumors that the Red Leader is working in something big. Something better than a giant robot. Something truly grand. 

Slowly, Tord's wounds healed. But the pain didn't. He felt the pain every day. He looked at his face, and grimmaced at it. He hated the way he looked. It reminded him of what he did, and he didn't want to be reminded of that. He guessed he was a coward for not wanting to think about it. For pretending it never happened. And he hated it. 

He wore an eyepatch over his right eye. He covered his face with latex and make-up. He didn't want to see it. See the scars. To see the memories. He didn't want to. It made him think. He didn't want to think. 

Seeing the scars reminded him of thinking. He never wanted to think. Looking at the scars lead to drinking. He knew the drinking was bad, but he did it because it made him feel so much better. 

So this was the beginning of a year of blackouts and hangovers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got this introduction finished! Yay!  
> Okay, somethings may need to be explained.   
> Chapter 1: The End Part 2, plus some bonus features I made up.   
> Chapter 2: The bonus features if the bonus features. Tom nearly kills himself.   
> Chapter 3: Tord's point of view after The End Part 2. Tord beginning to get treated. He does not yet get a robotic arm; that comes later, in the next part of the series.


	4. New Series!

Yay! You finished this part of the series! 

The next part of the series is called, 'A Life Of Beautiful Regret', and if you enjoyed this 'prologue' story, then you would probably like the next installment of the story! 

Yes, the next installment is shippy. 

Can I help it?

No. 

Thank you for leaving so many kudos, too! I really appreciate it! It feels really good to know people enjoy this story! 

See you in the next story!

-ThePotatodactyl

**Author's Note:**

> The end is far, far away, so relax and enjoy some pasta @hushhushgalaxy.tumblr.com


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